Kidnapped!
by Mikageshi
Summary: A kidnap-for-ransom syndicate has its eye on P.S. 118 fourth graders Lorenzo, Rhonda, and Helga… but abducts Arnold. The plot is not as serious as the summary sounds, actually.
1. Code Red

**Disclaimer  
**(Just so I won't get sued…)  
All related characters and settings found below are strictly based on the TV series _Hey Arnold! _created by Craig Bartlett as seen on _Nickelodeon_.

**Status  
**(Just for you to know…)  
_Finished_, with _eleven_ chapters.

**Kidnapped!**

**1: Code Red**

One fair, sunlit Sunday, Arnold and his friends had just ended their baseball game. With nearly all of them save the boy sporting lumps on their heads (he still was a Dangerous Lumberjack), on they were strolling to their respective homes when they chanced by Phil's TV. The twenty or so television sets on display were all tuned to one program: the news.

"Hey," Arnold pointed at the TV screens. "Isn't that a kid from P.S. 119? Why is he on TV?"

His buddies traded shrugs and murmurs.

"We wouldn't know, man." Said Gerald.

Stinky piped up. "Yeah, on account of we don't even go to the same school with 'im."

"THIS JUST IN!" declared the newscaster on TV. The fourth graders whirled and watched. "KIDNAP-FOR-RANSOM IS TERRORIZING OUR TOWN!"

The kids gasped.

"As of five minutes ago, three public school children had been abducted and taken hostage by two members of an unidentified kidnapping syndicate, thus totaling the most recent tally of victims at a lofty eleven. The families concerned and the authorities have been promptly alerted…"

With widened eyes, the fourth graders walked off.

"We have to be on our guard," said Arnold. "The news said the kidnappers are after kids like us."

"Yeah, Arnuldo." Scoffed Helga. "News flash: they wouldn't be called _kid_nappers if they didn't kidnap _kids_!"

"You mean they put us kids to sleep?" inquired Stinky.

The girl with the pink bow glared at the tall country bumpkin. "Stinky…"

His puzzled eyes met her blazing ones.

"…You're an idiot."

"Arnold's right, you guys," said Sid. "We gotta be _really_ careful. If any one of us disappears, we gotta look for him."

"Or her!" Added Rhonda. "Who knows, those kidnappers might get me." She bounced her hair. "What with my wealth and high class…"

"Oh, brother." Helga rolled her eyes. "The only reason anyone would be dumb enough to get you is to shut your mouth."

"That's a swell idea…" Curly's lips curled up enigmatically as he rubbed his hands together. He cocked his head, and the lens of his glasses thickened (it had always been hard to see what was going on behind those opaque specs of his). He laughed to himself.

All eyes rested on him. Some eyebrows were raised, too.

"What?" Thaddeus whirled about him, his hands half-clenched mad-scientist style.

The kids shook their heads.

* * *

The following day, Mr. Simmons stepped inside his classroom as his students trawled for their seats. "Class, I just got a call from Lorenzo's mother." 

Twelve pairs of eyes opened out and darted across the room towards the desk on which their elite classmate sat the previous week.

It was vacant.

Harold gulped. "Was he… _kidnapped_?"

The students traded suggestive looks amongst each other.

Mr. Simmons' breath caught. "Oh heaven forbid, no!"

The class released one unified sigh.

"She phoned me to inform us that due to the rampant crime situation these days, Lorenzo won't be joining us for class until the scare is over."

The class ooh-ed and ahh-ed.

"Let us keep in mind that his being _special _is a possible reason for the kidnappers to take interest in him."

"Y' mean his being _stinkin' rich_!" corrected Sid.

Mr. Simmons shook his head. "No, Sid. This is not about riches or wealth. We mustn't overlook the fact that you are all in danger because all of you are special."

"I thought he said we were an _endangered species,_" elbowed Helga.

The class doubled over.

Mr. Simmons held his hands up for quiet. "Class, this is not a laughing matter. I'd like all of you to take this social issue seriously. Together we must look after each other to put an end to this heinous crime plaguing our city."

"Like anyone would kidnap_ you_, Simmons." Helga wisecracked again, eliciting the same response from the rest. "Those beefcakes can't possibly carry you off to their li'l hideout."

The fourth grade teacher clapped his hand on his forehead to calm himself as the P.S. 118 bell rang for lunch break. "Now class, keep each other company—don't stray off the campus like you did last week, Harold—and have your lunch. I'd like to see all of you back in this room before the final bell. We can't risk having at the most one of you going missing."

The students stood and exited their room while exchanging small talk.

Nadine opened her locker and deposited her books as Rhonda waited.

"You heard what Mr. Simmons said, Nadine," Rhonda flipped her hair. "We must stay with each other for safety reasons."

Nadine reached inside her locker for her lunch money. "Don't worry Rhonda, we always stay together." She slammed her locker shut and faced her best friend. "Rhonda?"

The arachnid-smitten girl gasped. "RHONDA?"

* * *

"She was right here, standing on this very spot," The distressed Nadine motioned close by her locker. "I was just leaving my books and getting my lunch money when she disappeared. She was even talking to me a couple of seconds before that! It's all my fault!" 

She buried her face in her palms, sniffling.

The fourth graders shook their heads and clicked their tongues. Helga whistled. "Who would have thought Princess would be victim number one?"

Arnold clapped his hand on Nadine's shoulder. "It's no one's fault but the kidnapper's, Nadine. Don't blame yourself. All we gotta do is look for Rhonda all over the school. If we can't find her, we've got to get the authorities involved."

Gerald clapped his hand on Arnold's shoulder. "There's only one problem, Arnold. She could be _anywhere_ in the whole city! Or the bad guys could've hitched a plane and dragged 'er all the way to China!"

He flung his hands into the air for emphasis, and the others mumbled in agreement.

Arnold placed his hand on his hips, his eyes half-lidded skeptically. "Well, they couldn't have gone to China…"

"It's too late, Arnold. They've already got 'er, hook, line, and sinker."

"It's _not_ too late, Gerald! Nadine says she's been gone for only two minutes. Her abductor couldn't have dragged her too far yet. Guys, we've at least got to try!" He turned to his classmates.

The kids trained their eyes on Helga. Apparently, in her lay the final say.

Helga glanced from the sobbing Nadine to the voicelessly pleading Arnold and sighed. "Fine, let's just get this over with! Personally I'd love to see Rhondaloid being dragged away!"

The fourth graders pumped their fists into the air.

"LET'S GO SAVE RHONDA!"

**End of 1: Code Red**

**Since you got this far, why don't you Submit a Review? The next chapter won't fly away or something! Here's what to expect…  
**Arnold and the P.S. 118 fourth graders encounter fear and shock twice as one is found and another lost in chapter _2: Saving Princess Rhonda_.


	2. Saving Princess Rhonda

**Disclaimer  
**(Just so I won't get sued…)  
All related characters and settings found below are strictly based on the TV series _Hey Arnold! _created by Craig Bartlett as seen on _Nickelodeon_. In addition, no copyright infringement of the motion picture _Saving Private Ryan_ is intended by the allusive chapter title.

**2: Saving Princess Rhonda**

"Sheena and Eugene, go search the second floor. Phoebe, Helga, downstairs." Arnold pointed to the staircase. "Harold, Stinky, check for Rhonda in the playground. Gerald and Sid, the cafeteria—"

Harold frowned. "Hey! _I_ wanna check the cafeteria!"

Arnold rolled his eyes and sighed. "Fine Harold, check the cafeteria. Curly, Nadine, Lila and me will look outside the school." He scanned his classmates' faces. "Hey… where are Curly and Lila?"

The others looked around as well.

"I heard Lila's with Lorenzo keeping him company. Weird, huh?" said Sid.

Arnold blinked. "Maybe he's not feeling well. We got no more time, guys!"

"_Come on_ people, let's get this show on the road!" Helga pushed Harold aside and descended the stairs.

Phoebe followed close behind and called out in her tiny voice, "Coming."

Arnold and the others headed on their separate ways in their newly formed groupings. He turned to Nadine. "Didn't Rhonda scream or shout out before she vanished?"

Nadine shook her head. "I would have heard it. She was standing so close…"

"I understand." Arnold's brows knitted. "I wonder where Curly is. He was in class this morning…"

* * *

"Mm! Mm-mm! Mmmf!" Rhonda tried to speak while a gag was still stuffed in her mouth. "Mmmph!"

"Silence!" Her masked abductor cried out, dropping her onto a dilapidated desk inside the custodian's office.

"Mm!" She rubbed the rope bounding her wrists together to the seat, but the knot was mighty tight.

"Relax, my love! I'm no kidnapper!" Curly reeled back as he removed his facemask and put on his opaque glasses. "You're in _my_ hands now!"

Rhonda, taken aback, threw her feet—with her ankles tied—towards Curly. He evaded her attack and pushed her seat back.

Rhonda screamed, gagged and all, as her chair fell with her back to the floor. She was about to get up when Curly tripped her and she fell back onto the seat.

He tied her up onto the back of the seat and lifted it upright again. "And now you're my hostage!" he exclaimed, laughing manically.

She pushed her face towards him, signaling to get the stuffing out of her mouth. Once he did, she burst out, "WHAT IN HEAVEN'S NAME ARE YOU DOING TO ME?"

He shrugged, a goofy smile on his face. "I just told you. I'm keeping you hostage."

"HAVE YOU GONE COMPLETELY MAD?" screeched Rhonda. Then she stopped. "Then again, you've always been completely mad…"

"Completely mad as a hatter in love with you!"

She snubbed his response. "Let me go, you ingrate! When everyone sees the horridness you've done to me! You carried me off, stuffed my mouth with that sock—"

Curly glimpsed at the bleeding flesh below his thumb. "But before I did that! You just had to _chew on me_!"

Rhonda turned her cheek away. "And you fully deserved it!"

"And I didn't use any sock!" Curly held up the gag he used on her. "This is my underwear that I took off after two weeks!"

Rhonda gawked at the article of clothing queasily. "I think… I'm going… to barf."

And she threw her head back and did.

* * *

"That football-headed freak!" Helga mumbled to herself. "He always wants _Lila_ by his side. Lila, Lila, Lila. 'Where's Lila? Lila and I'll look outside the school.' Lila and I blahddy-blahddy-blah! It's always that Little Miss Perfect he's lookin' for. And jealous of Lorenzo! 'Maybe he's not feeling well.' Yeah, why doesn't he just get sick, shrivel up and die?"

Phoebe looked at Helga cautiously. "Helga, you seem a little… distracted. Maybe we should stop. Take a rest."

"Oh, no rest for me, Phoebes," Helga faced her with a sardonic look. "I won't stop to rest until we find the self-appointed best dressed girl in our class. Yeah, sure! As if that'll ever happen!"

"But Helga, if we go on in these conditions, our efforts won't be very productive." Phoebe held her by the arm. "We've looked around and found no sign of Rhonda."

"Well, DOY!" Helga rolled her eyes and threw her arms to the air. "What kidnapper in his right mind would keep his victim well within the scene of the crime? We could look in this floor all our lives and even dig our own graves in here and still never find her!"

"Still, Arnold's right, Helga. The abductor couldn't have gone very far as he hasn't had much time. We've been on his tracks. We'll find Rhonda."

"Yeah, maybe he and Nadine and _Li-la_ will find her. Oh, that reminds me." Helga pounded her fist on her palm. "She's not here!"

"Helga…" sighed Phoebe.

* * *

Eugene and Sheena were discussing as they went down to the first floor. "I haven't seen Curly either," said Sheena.

Eugene was about to respond when he lost grip of the banister and toppled down the steps on his rear end one stair at a time. Both he and Sheena screamed. When he landed headfirst on the ground floor, he placed a hand on his dizzy head and cried his trademark, "I'm okay".

Suddenly the door to the right of the staircase opened, and Curly's head peeped out. "What's all the racket out there?"

"Oh there you are, Curly." Sheena helped Eugene up. "Have you seen Rhonda? She's been kidnapped."

Eugene was cracking his back straight when Curly guffawed. "KIDNAPPED! HA-HA! KIDNAPPED, YOU SAY!"

And to Eugene and Sheena's surprise, a familiar voice resounded from inside the room that Curly occupied. "SOMEBODY! HELP!"

"Hey, that's Rhonda!" exclaimed Eugene. He and Sheena looked at each other.

Curly looked inside the room and then at the two. "You didn't hear nuttin'!"

And he slammed the door behind him.

Eugene went to the doorknob and turned it. "It's locked."

When he let go of the knob, it came off the door.

"So it was Curly all along." Said Sheena.

"Let's tell the gang." Said Eugene, staring at the brass knob in his hand.

* * *

Arnold rapped on the door of the janitor's closet. "Curly? It's Arnold. We know Rhonda's in there. Open up."

A muffled voice came from inside. "I—I dunno what you're talking about! And who's 'we'?"

"Aw, give it a rest, ya twisted li'lfreak! We're tired of your little kidnapping game!" Cried Helga.

"So you're all there, thinking you know something I don't!" barked Curly. "Well, your precious Rhonda's not here, so leave me alone!"

"LIAR!" Another voice came from inside the room. All eyes outside widened.

Helga chuckled. "Yep, that's Miss Wellington Lloyd all right."

"No bout a-doubt it." Agreed Stinky.

"All right, I admit! Rhonda's my hostage! And as my hostage, she's under my every whim and demand! And if you boneheads dare so much as lift a finger on that door, she'll receive the worst treatment you could ever imagine!"

The kids groaned and sighed. Curly's done it again: snapped.

"Well, he's already given me the worst treatment you could ever imagine!" began Rhonda. "He just suddenly made off with me and then…" As Rhonda continued, Gerald, Harold, Stinky, and Sid huddled with their shoulders to the door. Gerald whispered, "That's it Rhonda, keep distractin' him. On three! One… two…"

Arnold gritted his teeth watching the four. "Maybe that isn't such a good idea…"

"THREE!" All four boys hollered at the top of their lungs and knocked the door down with all their might.

The rescue party clustered into the room, leaving Arnold by the doorway. He examined the fallen door. "That was terrible. We damaged school property."

Little did he or anyone else know that two men, masked and clad all in black, were creeping along the hall. The skinny one retrieved a slip of paper from his pocket and read its contents hoarsely. "P.S. 118… fourth grader… wide blond hair."

The burly one poked his shoulder and pointed at a fair-haired kid in sight. "That one?"

The lanky man read the note again and scrutinized the nine-year-old. "I'll bet'cha ten bucks I've seen that kid someplace…"

"Where?"

"I—I dunno! Shut up and get crackin'! We got phone calls t' make."

Inside the janitor's room, the fourth grade class formed a huddle surrounding Rhonda and Curly. Not minding her beloved, Helga waved her hand dismissively. "Aw, don't sweat it, Football Head. We just tell Wartz that Curly snapped again. He can't keep our whole class indetention."

Arnold was to beg to differ when two powerful arms seized him by the torso and raised his feet clean off the ground.

"Huh?" The boy dug his fingers deep into the fleshy arms around him, preparing to strike his assailant when he heard a muffled undertone.

"No monkey business, Pataki."

Arnold gasped. He threw a bewildered glance at Helga, who did not catch it. He was about to cry out when a second man clutched him by the hair and leveled faces—masked to enraged—with him.

"Say one word and all your little friends get hurt."

The captive grunted and smoldered in fury as his two captors took him away.

Expecting to gain a disapproving response from the conscientious Arnold but did not, Helga peered outside the door. "Hey, Football Head!"

Her love was nowhere to be found.

She gasped and looked in all directions. "Arnold? Arnold? Arnold!"

All eyes turned to her.

"Listen up, ya bunch of clods!" she shrieked at the fourth graders, tightening her fist to get a hold of herself.

"Arnold's gone!"

**End of 2: Saving Princess Rhonda**

Actually, Helga's scorn of Lila in this chapter (unmistakable with her statement, "That football-headed freak! He always wants _Lila_ by his side. Lila, Lila, Lila. 'Where's Lila? Lila and I'll look outside the school.' Lila and I blahddy-blahddy-blah! It's always that Little Miss Perfect he's lookin' for…") is now UNFOUNDED because this story ought to take place AFTER Season Five episode "Timberly Loves Arnold", in which Arnold tells Gerald: "It's over with (Timberly and) Lila". Here, even if Arnold "assigned" the absent Lila to work with him, he DOESN'T like her like her anymore. Oh well, you'll see in chapter eleven.

**Since you got this far, why don't you Submit a Review? The next chapter won't fly away or something! Here's what to expect…  
**The youngest martial art black-belter in Hillwood (let's just assume that he is) handicaps himself for a cause in chapter _3: Arnold's Sacrifice_.


	3. Arnold's Sacrifice

**Disclaimer  
**(Just so I won't get sued…)  
All related characters and settings found below are strictly based on the TV series _Hey Arnold! _created by Craig Bartlett as seen on _Nickelodeon_.

**3: Arnold's Sacrifice**

Arnold put up a good fight wriggling from the husky man Vic's hold. Vic mopped up the sweat from his own brow just trying to contain the boy.

"Quit squirmin', Pataki!"

_Pataki_, thought Arnold. _They really think I'm Helga. Helga was supposed to be their hostage! Now I gotta pretend to be her, or her relative. The moment I spill the beans, I expose her. Be really careful._

Morrie, the gangly one, shut the school door behind them as Vic bound Arnold's wrists behind his back, his arms to his torso, and his ankles together.

Arnold groaned each time he was tied. He felt powerless. _I can do this! For Helga. I've already taken her place. I just have to keep up this charade till I get to the other hostages and set them free. _"You won't get away with this!"

"Oh, but we did! Didn't we, Pataki?" And the men hoisted Arnold into the backseat of their getaway vehicle.

While Morrie took his seat behind the wheel, Arnold reached for the car door lock and tried pulling it up with his teeth. From the frontal passenger seat, Vic pointed a gun at Arnold's temple.

His mind racing a mile a minute, Arnold arranged his virtually paralyzed body to sit promptly. He accomplished this with great difficulty, though.

"That's a good boy." Morrie eyed his captive from the rearview mirror. "Sit still and answer our questions. We left your mouth alone for a reason."

Arnold met the man's look with a glare at the mirror. "What are your demands?"

Vic, still with his pistol on Arnold, began. "Are you really a Pataki?"

_No way! _"Yes."

With his free hand Vic dug up a file folder from underneath his chair and flipped through it. "The data says the Beeper King had no son! Whaddya have to say to that?"

_Whoa. You had data of Helga's family? _

"'Had' is right. He has one now: me."

_Helga will kill me for this. Me, a Pataki? I've got to be kidding. _

"What's your name?" snapped Morrie.

"Arnold."

"Arnold what?"

_Keep the details vague. _Arnold's tongue was burning as he gulped. "Arnold… Pataki."

* * *

"That left a rotten aftertaste!" Helga's tongue was burning as she spoke to Phoebe.

"Why Helga, there's nothing wrong with subtly proposing that we rescue Arnold…"

Gerald joined them. "Man, two kidnappings in one day! And the real one had to involve _Arnold_!"

"I wonder what they want from him," said Sid. "He's not that rich or popular. Maybe they want his room, or his advice…"

"If they want his advice, they should've just here approached him and asked!" Said Stinky.

"And they did, in the most inhuman way!" yelled Helga. "Aren't we all just ignorant, wretched buffoons? Football Head was just with us minutes ago and now he's gone!"

"Maybe another classmate of ours kidnapped him." Said Eugene.

"Maybe Curly kidnapped him, just like he did to Rhonda!" said Harold.

They all feasted their eyes on their bespectacled classmate.

"I did NOT 'kidnap' her! I already told all ya blockheads before, kidnapping's too messy! I just took her out for a li'l spin!"

They all planted their hands on their hips.

"And don't you think even think about me taking Arnold as hostage! I had nothing to do with it! He was looking at the door, which by the way, _you guys _broke down just now! He might have run off to do something about it like he always does!"

They all murmured their agreement.

"Could be, Four Eyes," said Helga gently yet falsely. "Except I was talkin' to him and he didn't answer back!"

They all gasped. Arnold would never diss anyone. Not even Helga.

"If I may have something to say about it, I believe it was him who led the search for me," Rhonda cut in. "And now that he's gone missing, looking for him would be, as he always says, 'the right thing to do'."

Helga pumped her fist into the air. "FIND FOOTBALL HEAD!"

As her classmates rushed past the open (door-less) doorway, the girl with the carnation-pink bow bent down and ogled at three golden threads on the floor. With great care she picked them up and held them at eye level.

"Arnold's hair!"

The others stopped in their tracks and looked at the strands between Helga's pointer and thumb.

"How do you know they're Arnold's?" Asked Rhonda from her chair (as she was still tied). "They could be Nadine's, or Robert's. Or even yours… if your hair falls off all the time."

Helga glowered at Rhonda. "'Cause they—"

It was a good thing that she was able to stop herself from divulging her deadly secret. She could tell that they were his from their distinct cornflower hue and fineness. She was certain—she was an avid collector of them for her Arnold Shrines. On the other hand, just to make sure…

The blond girl disgustedly sniffed the locks twice. "'Cause they smell of Football Head's yucky shampoo, and 'cause I say so! Got that, Princess?"

Helga had delivered yet another of her smooth, snappy comebacks. Rhonda sighed. The others shrugged and concurred, all convinced.

"I found 'em here…" Helga pointed to the space to the left of the open doorway. "…So Arnuldo must've gone _that way_!"

The others started running towards the direction she pointed. Harold and Stinky, however, were going the other way.

Helga folded her arms across her chest and pointed again. "I meant _that_ way…"

The two boys whirled and tiptoed their way around her. "W-we knew that. Didn't we, Harold?"

"O-of course we did! Whaddya take us for, sissy idiots?"

* * *

"Whaddya take us for, sissy idiots? Full name!"

"Arnold G. Pataki." _I'd rather have my mouth gagged than say this._

"Your G.! We need it for the data!"

"Geraldine—" Arnold's two captors raised their brows. "—Gerald!"

"Hmm…" Vic glanced at his papers. "Arnold Gerald Pataki, eh?"

A bead of sweat trickled down Arnold's forehead. _Buy it. PLEASE buy it._

The gunned Vic took an empty sugar sack and held it above Arnold's head. "Get in the bag, blondie."

"No!"

With one hand at the wheel, Morrie brought out a knife and pinned its razor-sharp edge through the sack. "Do it."

Vic dumped the sack on Arnold, shrouding him entirely. "Think of it this way, kid. With that on, the coppers and the others can't tell who you are."

_Play innocent. Play dumb. _"'The others'?"

"Did we give ya the right to ask questions?" Howled Morrie. "You're not the first one we got, y' know that."

"Yeah, yer our thirteenth catch," added Vic with a smirk. "And if all goes well and yer king father kicks it in and trades his kingdom for ya, you'll be our luckiest catch yet."

"_Kingdom"?_ Arnold's eyes widened. _Oh, now I understand! They were after Helga to ask for Big Bob's Beeper Emporium as ransom! Well, since they got the wrong girl—guy!—they'll never get it._

_And I don't believe in this, but I'll make sure their thirteenth catch is their unluckiest… and their last._

* * *

"That's the whole story, Mr. Simmons." Concluded Phoebe, looking down at her shoes. "Rhonda, the janitor's closet door, and Arnold."

The fourth grade teacher was not his usual smiling self upon hearing the news. "I understand, Phoebe. Thank you for sharing with me this… this tragedy that chanced upon us. And, as much as the class deems it unnecessary, I better go contact Arnold's parents."

"Grandparents."

"Oh. Right."

* * *

"Kidnapped! Ha-ha! Kidnapped, you say!" Guffawed Arnold's grandfather through the receiver.

Mr. Simmons gripped the dangling telephone cord. "I'm afraid I'm serious, sir. The students reported him missing this lunchtime."

"But he's a martial arts expert!" Grandpa Phil pointed out. "Taught him myself. He earned a black belt in a week!"

Mr. Simmons felt incredulous. "For some reason, Arnold was somehow unable to defend himself from the kidnappers. They have already made victims out of a dozen or so other children, and so perhaps Arnold—"

"_Didn't_ want to defend himself from the 'nappers!" cried Phil. "Y' see mister, uh…"

"Simmons."

"Cinnamons! Short Man has his tendencies, y' know. Tries to help people out all the time, even at his expense. He probably let himself get abducted to save the others. Got it from his father. The poor fool."

"Yes, mister… Arnold's grandpa, sir." The schoolteacher was at a loss for words. "I'm sure this terrifying news must have gotten to you…"

The old man clapped a hand over his growling stomach. "Oh yes, it sure has. Sorry, gotta go! Gotta answer another call!"

He hung up.

Mr. Simmons freed the line as well. "I didn't hear another call trying to get in…"

Back in the Sunset Arms Boardinghouse, Philip scuttled off to his "office", the W.C., and locked the door behind him. "Never ignore the call of nature!"

**End of 3: Arnold's Sacrifice**

**Since you got this far, why don't you Submit a Review? The next chapter won't fly away or something! Here's what to expect…  
**Three independent crime-busting groups are born, each with a stratagem of its own in chapter _4: The Arnold Rescue Teams_.


	4. The Arnold Rescue Teams

**Disclaimer  
**(Just so I won't get sued…)  
All related characters and settings found below are strictly based on the TV series _Hey Arnold! _created by Craig Bartlett as seen on _Nickelodeon_. In addition, no copyright infringement of _Tarzan_ created by Edgar Rice Burroughs as seen on _The Disney Channel _is intended by the references below.

**4: The Arnold Rescue Teams**

The eccentric Gertrude raised her fly swatter and took aim. "So… poachers took poor Kimba and locked him in a cage, did they?"

She knocked the swatter onto the fly that crawled all over the frame of her grandson's baby picture, leaving the pest lifeless. "Not if Jane has anything to say about it!"

Philip pushed the W.C. door open, allowing a certain odor to breed within the boardinghouse. "Another character again, Pookie?"

"What's it to ya, Tarzan?"

* * *

"Get off the car, kid."

Arnold did not flinch.

"I said get off the car! Don't make me hear an echo, Pataki!"

"I didn't tell you to repeat yourself."

"Getting wise with us, eh?" Vic drew out his shooter and pressed it against the sack.

Arnold saw but utter darkness, yet he was aware that the cold ring against his chest was the mouth of his captor's gun. He had a plan, and to execute it perfectly he had to put his life on the line for a short while. At any rate, he had already gone this far: covered for Helga and arrived at the lair of the hostages, whom he soon had to free.

Trying his best to keep the shape of the sack the same, as if he had not moved at all, Arnold bent his head slowly and bit the barrel of the gun. If Vic pulled the trigger at that very moment, he will have shot Arnold through the throat. But he did not, and Arnold was waiting for him to get lazy.

Fortunately for the captive, Morrie had already left the car. He could then manipulate Vic enough to successfully accomplish his ploy.

When Vic yawned, for one last time Arnold checked his own wrists if he could move them and, accepting that he could not, pushed his captor's gun away with his mouth.

"What the—?" There, Arnold's ruse worked! He had caught Vic off guard!

Lifting his tied legs, Arnold kicked his hefty opponent as hard as he could wherever he could.

"You dare attack me with yer whole puny body in ropes?" Spat Vic.

"Okay. Get this sack off me and it'll be a fair fight."

"Oh yeah?" The unassuming Vic pulled the sack off the boy and lifted him by the collar outside the car. Then he dropped him on the hard ground.

"Ha! You can't even stand up!"

But the first part of Arnold's master plan was pulled off triumphantly. When he fell to the ground, so did his hat. Whoever searches for him will definitely recognize that as his and, even if they would not search inside wherever he was going, they would find his cap somewhere near the vicinity.

If he could not escape by himself, then someone had to find his hat.

"I didn't think of that." Shrugged Arnold. "All right, you win. Put me in the sack again and take me away."

_The sooner I get to the others, the better. I wonder who they are._

Again Vic did as Arnold told without himself knowing. "_That's_ the way we like our Patakis: nice and submissive."

_Then you've never met Big Bob. Or Helga! _Arnold laughed—the cretin could not see him do so anyway—as he felt himself being carried upon his kidnapper's back. All of a sudden he felt a punch on his arm.

"Keep still, blondie. Copper a-comin'."

Committing to memory that he had to free the other captives, he obliged to the order. Within moments he overheard his captor and another man engaging in a tense dialogue.

"Just a sack of refined white sugar, Officer! Nothin' fishy goin' on here!"

_So he passed me off as some sugar sack to the policeman on patrol! Maybe they did that to the other kids, too. Hasn't the cop noticed how many "sugar sacks" they have? _Arnold blinked at the total dark that was all his eyes could see.

* * *

Officer Pudney, better known as the lone redhead lady cop of Hillwood City, set her steaming coffee cup down on her cluttered desk. "Sorry, kids. We've got too many cases in our hands already. Twelve in one week is no joke."

"Are you sayin' you're leaving this thirteenth case in our own young, defenseless hands?" Gerald peered at his own two. "That's illegal!"

"Too many cases! What're you gonna do about it?" Helga pounded the police desk with her fist, spilling the officer's coffee over her papers in the process. "Look, lady, we didn't come here to get shoved off by lazy windbags in uniform who sip from their coffee mugs and play darts all day!"

She motioned to the spent dartboard at one corner of the precinct.

Gerald nodded.

"I can't believe you'd let _kids like us_ hound after gangsters who hound after _kids like us_! Y' know what that's called? Gross negligence! Didn't study that in police academy? Look it up! If you even know what a dictionary is!"

A split second later, Gerald and Helga groaned at the gruff policeman who towed them away by the backs of their collars and chucked them out of the doors of the police station.

"Man, this truly stinks!" Protested Gerald. "They're never gonna help us now that they've booted us to the street."

"Y' think?" retorted Helga. "Ah, who needs adults? Those a-_dolts_ never pay attention to us anyway! We'll get Football Head back ourselves, even if we have to use our grubby, defenseless kid hands to do it!"

"Say Helga…"

"What, Tall-Hair Boy?"

"Why're you so determined to save Arnold? Far as I can remember—and that's far—you never liked him."

Helga harrumphed and sat down on the banister to the left of the stairs of the station. "Wouldn't you like to know."

"What's wrong wit' that?" He sat one step below her.

"Look, Geraldo! Football Head went missing while _I _was talkin' to 'im! I didn't notice he was gone 'til he was! If I _had_ noticed, maybe he wouldn't have gone missing 'cause maybe I could've blown the kidnapper's brains out! The only hands that ought t' screw Football Head's cap are _mine_, not some kidnapper's!"

With a furtive smile, Gerald glanced at her and looked down. "I hate to say this, and to your face, but Arnold was right. You're not so bad."

"What's your point?"

"You _are_ nice… you're just too shy to show it."

Helga's eyes widened in the time it takes to blink. She faced Arnold's best friend with a curious look. "He said that?"

Gerald waved his hands dismissively. "For a million times! He drives me NUTS just sayin' it! He always says it after you two work together on some project. Dunno whom he's trying to convince, me or himself. Look,"

He pointed at the two approaching boys.

"I see 'em. Lemon pudding and Mister Fudgy."

Stinky and Harold stopped before them, holding their knees and gasping for air. Helga and Gerald stood up.

"We just came from the substation in Vine Street," huffed Harold.

"They said they were busy, and then they kicked us out." Panted Stinky.

"Same here."

"Every forsaken precinct in this city sucks!" said Helga. "We could all get kidnapped and they wouldn't even care to bat an eyelash!"

"This really bites." Stinky shook his head. "I sure hope Arnold's okie-dokie, wherever he is."

* * *

"And stay there!"

"Till we bag a good deal with yer king father."

Arnold moaned as his stiff, bound body struck the floor with a thud. He heard the slamming and locking of a door, then two pairs of footsteps and laughter dying away.

To his surprise, he also heard—and recognized!—voices; three of them, surrounding him. But the voice that struck him most said, "I say, after three torturous days we have ourselves a new sack of sugar! A new addition to this hodgepodge of upper and lower class!"

He twitched on the floor, trying to loosen the ropes and the sack. "Somebody untie me! Unless you're bound too…"

One of the other kidnap victims pulled the sack off him. And in the moment he saw light, he also stumbled upon Rex Smythe-Higgins the Third.

"Rex! You too?"

Upon revealing Arnold, the haughty Higgins boy disgustedly held the sack with only his pointer and thumb until he tossed it away.

"Oh, it's only you, the grandson of the American, Steely Phil. You've got it wrong, Arnold. _I_ should be asking _you_ that same question."

"We're probably here for the same reason."

"Hey Arnold," the second familiar voice called from a lonely corner of the dungeon in which Arnold and his three fellow captives had to dwell. "Got chocolate?"

Still tied, Arnold twisted himself to see the second hostage in the cell…

"Chocolate Boy! What're you doing here?"

"Looking for chocolate, Arnold. Got any chocolate? I like chocolate."

"You see, that chocolate monster for a boy was not an intended hostage," Rex shook his head. "One of our kidnappers was just eating a chocolate treat he fancied so much that—"

"Yeah, chocolate!"

"Don't think I don't know." Smythe-Higgins turned his nose up at the scruffy kid who so rudely interrupted him. "As I was saying, this chap you call Chocolate Boy tagged along our captor until he arrived here. He hasn't gotten any chocolate, though."

Arnold heard Chocolate Boy sniff something. Someone, in truth, for she cried out, "How many times do I have to tell you, third grader? I don't eat chocolate and I don't have any chocolate with me! Besides, chocolate causes pimples. You should know that. Your face is just… full of them!"

Arnold stretched out his neck and beheld Ruth McDougal, the sixth grader of his past affections. She had on the same orange halter dress that she wore to their perfect-gone-wrong "date" that Valentine's Day. With her legs crossed, she filed her fingernails, not even taking the time out to see the likes of the newcomer.

"Ruth? Ruth McDougal? Here?"

Finally the sixth grader cast an uninterested glance at Arnold, and then continued filing her nails. "Do I know you?"

Arnold was not too partial with his memories of Ruth. "Y—Yeah. We both go to P.S. 118."

He left out his name and grade level for a private, needn't-be-said reason.

"Oh, a fourth grader. Alfred, is it?"

"Arnold." The boy looked away, shamed. "Why and how did they get you?"

Without looking at him once more, the girl shrugged. "I dunno."

Arnold sighed hopelessly. "Okay… Now that we know each other, isn't anyone gonna untie me?"

"Sorry. I'm busy." Ruth displayed to him her unfinished nails.

"I'll do it if you got chocolate." Offered Chocolate Boy.

"Give me one good reason to." Rex folded his arms across his chest.

"Rex!"

"Personally it's a memorable experience for me to look at you all tied up as you are now. I can't be assured you'll ever be in such a state again. All right, I shall free you. Just give me time to savor the moment."

_And these are the hostages I wanted to rescue? _Arnold bemoaned to himself. _Hostages. Sure._

**End of 4: The Arnold Rescue Teams**

Yes, I'm well aware that he's _Radish_ Boy now, but Chocolate still suits him better. Besides, a choc craving as diehard as his could come back, in spite of Arnold being his "therapist"…

**Since you got this far, why don't you Submit a Review? The next chapter won't fly away or something! Here's what to expect…  
**Witness Arnold and Helga's minds at work in chapter _5: Analyze_.


	5. Analyze

**Disclaimer  
**(Just so I won't get sued…)  
All related characters and settings found below are strictly based on the TV series _Hey Arnold! _created by Craig Bartlett as seen on _Nickelodeon_.

**5: Analyze**

"We're burnin' daylight just moping around! Set up camp in here, for all I care! See ya when pigs fly and it's raining malted milk balls, or when ya dig up some useful news on Football Head's whereabouts!"

By way of that cantankerous farewell, Helga excused herself from the fourth grade Arnold search party and hastened home. Oblivious to the direction her legs took her; Arnold's secret admirer took out her heart-shaped locket and presented its picture to her nerve-wrecked self.

"Oh Arnold, where amongst the unkind recesses of this earth could you be? And are you well out of harm's way, my love? I worry and I fret, for you dare to stand in the line of fire for the sake of another, never considering yourself, your own safety and good! Dearest Arnold, if only the two of us share some mystical bond that would lead me to you when we do part! Oh, if only…"

Finding herself in front of her own home, she darted up the stairs and into her bedroom. Once safely in her clothes closet, she clapped her hands twice, and the million Christmas lights framing her Arnold Shrine number eighteen shone with a blinding glow.

"Arnold, the one object of my heart's desire, more than once I've bore my yoke of losing you to another woman more fortunate than I. Hearten me on, that I may cope with having lost you to titans who spell ill, to winds that blow no good! I mustn't concede—I shall get you back, even as my knees grow weak and my heart faint with fear for you, my darling! Hold strength for both our hearts, my love, and have faith in me; I am coming for you! Oh, if only you'd spare a sign, a portent of wherever you may be—"

Her soliloquy of lamentation was gradually yet rudely disrupted by the ringing of the house phone.

"Criminey, I don't have the time!" In spite of her grunt, the distressed girl abandoned her shrine and picked up. "WHAT?"

"You Big Bob Pataki?" Asked the sinister voice on the other line.

Helga's eyebrow wrinkled. "Do I sound anything like Big Bob Pataki?" She planted a hand on her hip. "Whaddya want?"

"We got yer son Arnold."

Helga covered the mouthpiece with her palm as her jaw dropped. "Arnold's captor! And he thinks Arnold's a Pataki!"

She listened in again.

"If you want 'im back without a scratch, lady, tell Big Bob t' surrender his beeper empire to us. Or else."

"Or else what?" Helga's scowl deepened more than ever before.

"Or else you'll never see him alive again!" The man hung up.

Helga hammered the receiver down. "If that knucklehead said Arnold is Big Bob's son and asked for the beeper empire as ransom…" She gasped.

"…He was mistaken for _me_!"

* * *

"I was mistaken for someone else." Sighed Arnold as he gingerly clutched his wrists, which were wounded from the tight ropes.

Rex the Third meticulously fingered his belt with the golden buckle and strap. "Ah, now I understand. When I knew it was you in the sack I wondered why they wanted to close a deal with your 'king father'. I've never met your father, but I'm certain your father's father had been no king in his time."

"They wanted my classmate, the daughter of Big Bob the Beeper King. They'll ask for his beeper emporium as ransom."

Higgins looked up. "Certainly your classmate's father will never give up his emporium for _you_!"

Arnold clenched his fists. "I know. That's why I've got to escape. We all do."

He scrutinized the dark room for any means of escape. He tried the door.

"Your efforts are futile, my football-headed fellow," said Rex. "We've all tried that… except for Miss McDougal, who refuses to break her nails."

Arnold scaled the walls with his eyes. He found a barred window well above their reach. It would be well within if someone stood on the tall Ruth's shoulders…

Arnold's expression brightened. "I've got an idea!"

The three looked at him curiously.

"Ruth, could we use your nail file to… uh, file through those bars?"

The girl tossed her file to him nonchalantly.

"Thanks. Let's just try this. Chocolate Boy, do you think you could get a hold of the bars if you stood on Ruth's shoulders?"

Chocolate Boy nodded repeatedly. "Yeah, yeah, if you give me chocolate."

"I don't want him to get a hold of the bars if he has to step on my clothes." Ruth crossed her arms across her chest. "You already took my nail file…"

"We can get you a new one and you can change your clothes once we get out of here." Arnold tried to reason with his fellow captives. "And you can get all the chocolate you want, too."

"What's in it for me?"

Arnold sighed. "Your freedom, Rex. Stand by for assistance. I appreciate this, guys."

He gave his two schoolmates a thumbs-up as he helped Chocolate Boy up Ruth's shoulders and handed the file.

After around twenty minutes of rubbing against the window bars, Chocolate Boy had barely nicked an inch off just one. Arnold looked at his watch. "This isn't working. Sorry Ruth. Sorry Chocolate Boy. Let's try something else."

Chocolate Boy hopped off the senior's shoulders. "All that and no chocolate!"

Ruth dusted her dress. "All that and no change of clothes!"

"All that and no freedom!" cried Rex, kneeling on the floor next to Arnold's sack.

_Freedom… _Arnold caught himself gawking at the sack and the ropes. Then another strategy hit him. "That's it! The ropes!" He pointed at the many ropes that bound him together. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

The three simultaneously muttered their disagreement.

Arnold inwardly shrugged off their reactions. _Oh yeah. None of them is Gerald. _"Let's knot these ropes together to make one really long rope!" He picked up the twine. "Then we attach the rope onto the bars and pull until the bars give way!"

Rex was slowly picking up Arnold's train of thought. "Yes. And once the bars give way, we get out through the window."

Arnold beamed and handed pieces of rope to his co-conspirators. "We can do it!"

The three nodded off as they coiled the ropes together.

* * *

Sid sniffled. "Boy howdy, we'll never find him!" He took off his hat, buried his face in it, and wailed. "I'll sure miss that Arnold!"

Eugene placed a hand on his sulking classmate's shoulders. "We'll find him, Sid. It's only a matter of time."

"All right, suck it up ya big crybaby!" Cried Helga from afar. The fourth graders looked up to see the toughest of them all stomping towards them with a slip of paper in her hands. "I got another clue!"

The Arnold crew all brightened and stood up, their ears perked up.

"I got a call from the kidnappers! They got Football Head all right!"

The kids murmured amongst themselves.

"Did they hurt him?" asked Harold.

Helga thrust herself at him in impatience. "Do I look like one of 'em to you, fat boy? How am _I_ supposed to know if they hurt him?"

She put the paper forward. "I called the operator and got the number of the phone they used. I asked where we could find that phone, but the stupid lady said it was 'confidential'!" She stressed the word mockingly. "Criminey! 'Confidential' at a time like this!"

Her classmates stared at the numbers jotted down on the paper in awe.

"What now?"

"We gotta trace the location of this phone number, ya bunch of brainless slobs! The phone the hoodlums used won't be that far from their headquarters! That phone will lead us to where they're keeping Football Head!"

"Sounds like a plan." Said Sid, donning his cap back on. "So what's the plan?"

Helga rolled her eyes and grunted to herself. "The lousy operator tried but didn't find this number in the listings, so those troublemakers used a payphone. I say we split up and guard every single public phone in the city! Phoebe and I'll give this number a ring, so wait for it watchfully! Whoever's phone rings is closest to Arnold!"

"Got it!" Most of the fourth graders cried out, except for Stinky.

"I don't get it. How do we _listen_ to a phone _watchfully_?"

"I meant keep your ears open, Peterson!" Helga prodded his back. "Now move it or lose it, bucko!"

As the others scurried off to occupy all the payphones in Hillwood City, Helga paced the floor back and forth while Phoebe stared at the piece of paper with the contact numbers.

"I hope you're right, Helga."

The girl with the pink bow threw a fraught look at her best friend. "I've got to be, Phoebes." She said evenly. "If something happens to a hair in Arnold's head, the guilt's gonna burden me for the rest of my life."

The girl with the yellow scrunchie returned her best friend's expression. "I'm sorry Helga, I… can't understand…"

"As hard to believe as it is, _I _was supposed to be their victim, not Arnold. They called up my house and wanted to speak to Bob about his 'son'."

Phoebe hid her mouth as she gasped. "You mean—"

"Yeah, Phoebes. That crazy Football Head took the fall for me."

**End of 5: Analyze**

The tables have turned: Helga is now the one pacing back and forth while Phoebe remains in one spot. Oh, the things Arnold does, to Helga and to everyone else on the show…

**Since you got this far, why don't you Submit a Review? The next chapter won't fly away or something! Here's what to expect…  
**Arnold proves himself worthy of his nickname "Short _Man_" in chapter _6: Arnold's Maneuver._


	6. Arnold's Maneuver

**Disclaimer  
**(Just so I won't get sued…)  
All related characters and settings found below are strictly based on the TV series _Hey Arnold! _created by Craig Bartlett as seen on _Nickelodeon_. In addition, no copyright infringement of the comic and motion picture _Spiderman_ is intended by the reference below.

**6: Arnold's Maneuver**

"You're crazy, Arnold! Crazy, you hear!" Shrieked Rex as Arnold tested the long rope that the four of them enjoined. "You took the fall for someone else, and now you'll risk your life!"

"We don't know how high up that window is," Arnold lassoed the middle bar of their getaway window. "If we're gonna scale down the building, I've got to check how many feet down we have to go."

"If you insist," Rex turned his nose up at his American rival. "But if you break your neck, I won't say I told you so!"

"Don't worry, you won't have to. Now let's pull as hard as we can."

The four briskly rubbed their hands together before taking firm hold of the long rope. Chocolate Boy even spat on his chocolate-smeared palms.

Arnold heaved a long sigh and braced himself. "One, two, three. PULL!"

The four captives yanked the rope as much as their strength allowed. The bars did not budge.

"PULL!" Arnold yelled again. All of them tugged again and the bars shook slightly.

"Just one more time, guys. Let's do this! PULL!"

Beads of sweat trickled down the four kids' faces as they gritted their teeth and pulled. They heard the wall crack, and in time the bars gave way and got off the window frame.

The three chafed their hands as Arnold took a deep breath. Snorting disdainfully, Ruth accommodated Arnold on her shoulders and the boy stepped onto the open window. Rex tossed the rope to Arnold, shaking his head. The intrepid boy was to descend down the wall of the building using the bars that came off as his ballast.

The three looked on in wonder and fear as Arnold stepped off the window and along the building wall, hanging on to the rope for dear life.

The fourth grader from P.S. 118 scaled down the building cautiously. He peered up and down and saw that they were kept hostage in the old warehouse along Main Street. He remembered his hat that he left close to one entrance of the warehouse and prayed that someone would find it, for even if he escaped this time; he planned to get back in and free the other hostages.

* * *

"I reckon this phone will never ring," sighed Stinky. He slumped his back against the glass wall of the payphone booth and sighed again.

"Stop movin'! We can hardly fit in here!" argued Harold. Both of them had been constricted inside the box booth for fifteen minutes straight.

"Y' suppose they already found Arnold?"

"How should I know? We've been stuck in here for ages!" Harold inhaled to compress his torso.

"I told you t' stay out of the phone booth, didn't I?"

"Yeah, yeah. Now shut your pothole or I'll POUND you!"

* * *

Gerald and Sid stopped and caught their breaths upon reaching the only phone booth near the city warehouse. Both of them were gripping their knees in faint when the telephone in the cubicle rang.

"Uh, Gerald? Could you get that?" Panted Sid.

Gerald's eyes widened. He straightened up and looked at the resounding phone. "Sid, that's Helga!"

"Okay. Could you get that?"

"Mm, mm, mm!" Gerald shook his head and lifted the receiver.

Before he could say anything, Helga's voice rumbled on the other end. "Aw, cut the crap! Who is this and where are you?"

Gerald shook his head even more.

Watching him, Sid nodded. "Yup. Who else could it be?"

"It's us, Helga. Gerald and Sid. We're near the warehouse on Main Street." The Keeper of the Tale, as his companion dubs him, eyed the building a few meters away.

"Got it. Don't pull off any of your lame and useless hero stunts by yourselves, Geraldo! I'll call the other stooges and we'll be right there!"

Following Helga's command was an ear-piercing CLICK: she hung up on him.

Gerald continued to shake his head as he set the phone down. "Helga's one of the ladies, but she sure don't know how to talk on the phone!"

* * *

From three stories above the ground, Arnold saw that the rope was not long enough for his three fellow hostages to land safely on the ground. Letting go of the rope at the end of its tether would be tantamount to suicide. _But where could I get more rope?_

Then it struck him. He could use the sack to lengthen the rope a little more. That way, Ruth would be able to get to the floor with several scratches, but Rex and Chocolate Boy's landing might cause a one-way trip to the hospital. The rope had to be longer still.

Then another brain wave washed him away.

"Rex!" He called out to the window high above him. "Give me the sack! And your belt!"

"What?" Higgins yelled back.

"I said give me the sack and the belt!"

Following a short but excruciating moment of waiting while holding on to a rope at the side of a building (and Arnold was no Spiderman), the sugar sack floated to Arnold's head. Sighing, he peeled it off him and readied himself for the belt, which without a doubt would not float down to him and had to be caught.

He blinked and waited a whole minute. No belt and no sign of any coming.

"Where's the belt, you guys?"

After a brief pause, Rex shouted from inside. "You can have your precious sack, but not my lucky belt! I never take it off! This is my lucky gold-studded belt, a present from my grandfather! You wouldn't understand!"

Arnold groaned. _Here we go again… _"Rex! I need that belt!"

"Well, I need it too! In fact, I need it more than you do! It's my lucky belt! I just never take it off!"

Arnold's grip on the rope tightened as his blood pressure escalated. "If you hadn't noticed, I myself took my hat off as part of my plan to escape, Rex! And that hat was a present from my parents who, by the way, _don't_ live in the same house with me like your grandpa does with you! That hat was their last legacy to me before they left me when I was just a baby! And I didn't want to, but I had to take it off!"

Appealing to the emotion was Arnold's strategy in jolting the Higgins boy's senses. It had always worked before. Hopefully it would work now and convince Rex to cooperate.

It did.

"Take it!"

Arnold saw the gold belt drop down and captured it.

"Grandfather may call it 'lucky' and all, but I got kidnapped wearing it anyway!"

Arnold smiled as he scaled further down the building with the sack and belt. When he reached the end of his rope, he fastened one end of the sack to it and knotted the belt to the other end of the bag. He climbed down the belt and jumped down, planting his feet firmly on the ground. The extension of the rope had successfully held his weight as he slid himself down; hence, it was as safe for the other captives as he could make it. He took cover among stacks of rubber tires and gave the others the signal.

One by one Ruth, Chocolate Boy, and Rex shinned down the window and onto the ground, joining Arnold amid the used tires. Rex detached his belt from the line and buckled it on him once more. Then he joined the others.

"We did it! Tell the police about the warehouse—that's where we and the other hostages're kept." Arnold pointed to the storehouse from where they came. "I'm breaking inside again for the others, just in case the cops don't pay any attention to you. They usually don't."

The third and sixth grader from P.S. 118 nodded with shrugs and walked away.

Higgins bid his adieu for his all-time rival-slash-friend. "You're bold and crazy, old bean. Bold, but mostly crazy."

Arnold smiled sheepishly as Rex Smythe-Higgins the Third turned his back and left.

Alone at long last and psyched up for his next act, Arnold crept towards the door to the warehouse not as a hostage, but a rescuer.

**End of 6: Arnold's Maneuver**

**Since you got this far, why don't you Submit a Review? The next chapter won't fly away or something! Here's what to expect…  
**Will the fourth grade Arnold Rescue Party find their bold and crazy classmate in time? Find out in chapter _7: Last Ditch_.


	7. Last Ditch

**Disclaimer  
**(Just so I won't get sued…)  
All related characters and settings found below are strictly based on the TV series _Hey Arnold! _created by Craig Bartlett as seen on _Nickelodeon_.

**7: Last Ditch**

_If they threaten to hurt the other hostages or myself, I'll just "remind" them that they can't hurt any one of us 'cause they have to return us unharmed if they want their ransom, _Arnold noted mentally as he turned the doorknob and snuck inside.

Inside the warehouse was pitch dark except for a ceiling lamp in the middle of the whole floor. The light swung to and fro, casting light in random directions. Arnold ducked now and then to evade the shafts as he slipped further inside.

He saw his two assailants at the far end of the hall and pressed his back against the wall in hiding. He then eavesdropped on them.

"I phoned the Patakis. I didn't get the king on the line." Said Vic.

Arnold gasped faintly. _Oh no! Did he…?_

"But someone answered?"

"Yeah. This lady. The king's wife or somethin'. I told 'er about 'er son."

"And…?"

"She got mad and went mad! As if she had no son or somethin'."

Arnold gulped. _Mrs. Pataki? Olga? Helga?_

"Anyways, I told 'er about the empire. Left 'er thinking about it."

"Well done. We'll be suckin' up the Pataki fortune in no time."

_Not if I have anything to say about it._ Arnold gritted his teeth. _I wish Grandma were here. She'd know what to do._

He peeked at his two kidnappers again. Morrie was seated on a holey, rickety office chair behind the messy, cracked desk. Vic was holding a cup with a little red ball tied to it, and unsuccessfully trying to catch the ball in the cup. It looked more like a child's toy. _Maybe one of the other hostages owns it._

When Arnold scanned atop the desk for anything useful, he saw it: a set of keys on the right edge of the table, most likely the keys to the cells of the other captives. He had to get them!

He waited until the two men were preoccupied. When Morrie leafed through his papers, Arnold gathered his wits about him. _Now's my chance!  
_

* * *

Eight fourth graders gasped for air as they ran as fast as their legs would take them.

Helga chopped the air with her fist. "The old warehouse! What other part of town could those goons stash a dozen kids in? Criminey, I should have known!"

She darted glances everywhere in her troubled state. At the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of Ruth McDougal in a boutique by which she just passed. She turned her head and confirmed her sighting. "What's that sixth-grader _Ruth_ doing shopping in an emergency situation?"

Phoebe carried a bulky copy of the city telephone directory in her arms as she raced alongside her best friend. "Perhaps she isn't aware of the widespread kidnapping incidents all over town."

"Man, is that slow or what!" Chided Helga. She looked forward and from the distance made out the old city warehouse and the phone booth. From beside it, Sid and Gerald waved their arms and hollered.

"Hey! Hey look! Sid and Gerald!" pointed Harold.

Helga grunted. "We can see 'em with our own eyes, pink boy!"

As soon as the ten students from Arnold's class gathered for the most recent goings-on, Gerald shrugged. "Nope, haven't heard a soul from in there."

Phoebe, still hugging the phonebook in her arms, said, "Nonetheless, we must have a look see. Arnold could be somewhere inside."

A chilling thought jolted through Eugene. "Gosh. If Arnold's inside, the kidnappers could be there too."

"Of course they'll be there! That's their headquarters!" Helga, who secretly feared the worst among them for her beloved Arnold, motioned towards the building. "Did ya think that's some day care center for the chosen children?"

Nadine reached into her pocket and brought a tarantula into the light. "I hope they're scared of spiders."

Sheena looked down. "I hope they don't try to fight us."

Sid stifled a nervous chuckle. "Actually… they won't."

Stinky nodded. "Yeah, on account of _we'll_ be the ones to try to fight _them_!"

Curly slapped his own cheeks in dread. "Aaaah! We're gonna be goners!"

Harold threw his arms into the air and ran around in circles. "Aaaah! We're doomed! Mooom-myyy!"

"Show some backbone, ya bunch of babies!" Snorting to herself, Helga turned her heels and plodded towards the warehouse entrance by herself, her fists clenched and ready to rumble. "And to think you spineless scaredy cats got this far! If anything happens to me or to Football Head, live with it for the rest of your cowardly, pusillanimous lives!"

The nine fourth graders from P.S. 118 gawked at their toughest classmate, physically and emotionally stumped.

"'Pusillanimous'? What's that?" Stinky elbowed Gerald.

"I'll tell you later." Gerald said, looking wise. _I'll have to ask Arnold what that "pusillanimous" is once "later" comes,_ he reminded himself.

Sid tore his gaze from the audacious Helga and turned to the others. "I don't know about you guys, but I wanna go. I wanna see Arnold again."

"Yeah, me too," sighed the rest together.

"If only there was some other way to do that," said Curly.

"I'm afraid there isn't," Phoebe shook her head. Suddenly she gripped the book of listings and stepped forward. "Classmates and friends! Are we going to let Helga—our own Helga Pataki—traverse that entire expanse of unimaginable peril without enduring it ourselves?"

Eight pairs of eyes widened, darted glances at each other, and trained on their resident whiz kid.

"Are we merely going to remain here, a sheer two yards away, while the imminent worst befalls upon the fate of two of our very classmates and friends? I say the weak of heart go on home and tremble beneath their sheets! I'm going!"

Eight pairs of eyes, still widened, blinked as they witnessed the typically coy, demure girl follow her fearless best friend's footsteps.

The fourth graders stayed speechless until Gerald subdued the awkwardness of the moment. "What're y'all waiting for? Let's go!"

The eight kids scampered to catch up with the two who had gotten their head start. Phoebe whirled and smiled at them. Helga, who was already just three giant steps away from the warehouse entrance, shot an annoyed glance at the mud under her shoes. Something that she had stepped on squeaked.

She lifted her foot and scraped the muddied object off the sole of her shoe. "What's this?"

She stripped the muck off the item, revealing a blue-cloth material.

"Arnold's hat!"

Arnold's admirer turned around and saw the rest of the Arnold rescue team on her tracks. She glanced at the door, reminding herself to be as discreet as she could, and raised the cap above her head for the others to see.

The Arnold gang gasped. "Hey! Arnold's hat!"

Helga shushed them softly as they approached her. "Pipe down, will ya? We're in kidnapper territory!"

"Oh yeah."

Helga stashed Arnold's cap inside her dress as she summoned a group huddle. "I never thought you lily-livers would actually come through with this. All right, now we all gotta be as bold and crazy as Football Head…"

* * *

The bold and crazy Arnold dashed across the room towards the right of the table. He hid from the eyes of the two men on the side of the desk close by the keys. Unfortunately for him, Morrie tossed his papers at that very side…

Arnold had already clasped the keys in his hand when the table he crouched beside was prodded away, exposing him from stooped head to toe. He gulped.

"So you were able to escape eh, you little sneak!"

Both men charged at Arnold, their hands ready to wring some neck. The boy pushed the office chair towards them. It rolled away carrying off Vic and, as he hollered, crashing him into the wall.

The unscratched Morrie seized him by the arm. He took hold of his captor's wrist and twisted it, causing the man to shout and release him. The nine-year-old black-belter whirled and kicked Morrie right in his crotch. And as Morrie jumped in pain, Arnold struck his ankles from the side and the leggy kidnapper toppled to the ground.

Now Vic had recovered and was fast approaching the boy from behind. Arnold detected his presence, and so he thrust his right elbow back. Vic clenched it in mid-attack and yanked Arnold's right arm, wrenching it behind the boy's back. Arnold winced as Vic shot a glance at his palm and did not find the keys.

"Hey! Where're the keys?"

Arnold clenched his left fist—the hand with the keys—as he pivoted to his right to face his brawny opponent and punched Vic's left cheek good.

"Looking for them?"

Vic slumped to the ground sideways with his eyes open wide. Arnold opened his left fist, revealing the keys.

"Here they are."

Since the boy was facing Vic, Morrie was stretched out on the floor behind him. It was he who grabbed Arnold's ankles and pulled them down and towards him.

"No!" Arnold yelled as his chin struck the ground and the keys flew off his clutches and into Vic's. Morrie rose to his feet, and Arnold thrust his legs to throw Morrie back. Morrie captured his legs before he could, though, and when he tussled to get up even while his lower body was being restricted, Morrie trampled on his mouth, pinning his head to the floor.

Arnold's kidnappers laughed menacingly as Vic tossed and caught the keys in his hand and Morrie jammed Arnold to the ground. Then Vic flung the keys to Morrie and hoisted Arnold off the floor by the boy's neck.

Arnold grabbed hold of the hand on his neck. "Wait! You can't hurt me! If you do, you can't ask for the ransom!"

Vic tightened his fist and took a punching stance as he lifted Arnold's feet half his own height above the ground with his other hand.

"We'll get your king dad's empire before we bring you back to him… DEAD! SAY YOUR PRAYERS, BLONDIE!"

**End of 7: Last Ditch**

**Since you got this far, why don't you Submit a Review? The next chapter won't fly away or something! Here's what to expect…  
**Helga exposes the truth about Arnold and herself (err… that wasn't supposed to sound _that _fluffy) in chapter _8: Helga's Maneuver_.


	8. Helga's Maneuver

**Disclaimer  
**(Just so I won't get sued…)  
All related characters and settings found below are strictly based on the TV series _Hey Arnold! _created by Craig Bartlett as seen on _Nickelodeon_.

**8: Helga's Maneuver**

Vic tightened his fist and took a punching stance as he lifted Arnold's feet half his own height above the ground with his other hand.

"We'll get your king dad's empire before we bring you back to him… DEAD! SAY YOUR PRAYERS, BLONDIE!"

"UNHAND THAT BLONDIE, YOU TEN-TON, THICK-SKULLED THUG!"

_Helga! _Arnold turned to the direction of the yell.

Without warning, the door to the outside cracked apart and in marched ten fourth grade kids, a girl sporting a carnation-pink dress and bow in the lead and pointing at Arnold's assailant threateningly.

"ARNOLD!" Exclaimed nine of them in unison.

More pluckily than ever, Helga marched towards Arnold and his opponents, her fists fully set at her sides. Arnold pinched the hand on his neck and threw his dangling legs about as his toughest classmate drew closer.

"No! Helga, don't come any closer! HELGA!"

Helga tramped on, pounding her fists on her palms. She glared at Arnold and his captors. "Not a word from you, Arnuldo!"

Stinky, who stood stiffly at the back of the group, whispered to the rest. "Gawrsh. Helga sure is tough."

The others, standing just as stiffly, simply nodded off in dread.

The girl with the one eyebrow cracked her knuckles. "It's time for these dimwitted brutes to know the _truth_, Arnold my _not-relative_!"

Phoebe's companions murmured amongst themselves.

"What—?"

"Arnold's not Helga's relative! Is he?"

"What's she talkin' about?"

"Helga's lost her marbles!"

Phoebe calmed the group as Helga advanced further. "You're all about to find out."

Overwrought in her own right, with her eyes Phoebe followed her best friend Helga, who braved to right the wrong that had been ceded to the one boy she loved.

"HELGA! STOP!" Arnold thrashed about more violently.

His classmates save Phoebe, who clasped her hands together in fear, traded oblivious looks. "What's goin' on?"

Morrie staggered back as the gutsy little blond girl imposed herself before him and seized him by the collar.

"I told you to unhand that blondie! You blockheads got the wrong one!"

The eight unknowing grade school kids gasped. Seven of them turned to look at Nadine, who shrugged. Phoebe cleared her throat and pointed to Helga. The eight said their ohhh-s and ahhh-s and turned to look at Helga again.

"No! I'm the one you want! I'm Arnold Pataki!" Arnold cringed as Vic strangled him tighter.

_Saying that in front of the guys was a _really_ bad idea…_

The eight unknowing grade school kids gasped once more.

"Arnold said he's a Pataki!" Pointed Harold.

The fourth graders spare Phoebe doubled over.

Slapping his knee, Curly added, "Arnold married Helga and got her last name!"

The hysterical laughter resumed.

Phoebe tried to call her classmates' attention. "You don't understand…"

"You dunno who you're messin' with, buddy! Oh no!" Said Gerald.

"That's right, you klutzy kidnappers." Helga tugged Morrie's lapel to level his face with hers. "I'm Helga G. Pataki, only child of Big Bob 'The Beeper King' Pataki—"

The class corrected her intentional mistake. "Hey! What about Olga?"

"Thanks for nothing, ya snitchin' weasels!" Helga snapped back and then faced the man again, pointing to Arnold. "—So leave that football-headed freak alone 'cause he's got absolutely _nothing_ to do with me!"

Smirking, Morrie pushed himself away from the hardhearted girl. "Wide blond hair, yeah… P.S. 118? Fourth grader? What's your G.?"

"HELGA!" Arnold cried as Helga folded her arms across her chest.

"Yeah—What's it to ya—and _Geraldine_."

The eight unknowing grade school kids gasped one more time.

"What? Ya losers didn't know that?"

Arnold and Phoebe sighed.

Morrie's brows knitted as he blinked and gave Helga the once-over. Then he exchanged glances with Vic. "Yeah, that's 'er! She's got The Beeper King's eyebrow! GET 'ER!"

Vic released Arnold from his clutches and dashed towards Helga. Arnold landed on the floor with a thud and stretched his arm towards the scene of the chase.

"NO!"

The other fourth graders cowered in terror—some hugged each other, and Harold lay sideways on the floor and sucked his thumb—as both gangsters hurled themselves at Helga.

The girl backed up into a wall and, as she glanced at her classmates, Vic and Morrie moved in. Helga bobbed her head down and the two men ended up punching—and cracking—the wall… and their knuckles.

"Ha!" Mocked Helga as she edged away. "One go and you've got your knuckles all sore an' black-and-blue! Why don'tcha let your mommy kiss your boo-boo? But mommy's not here, so just try suckin' your thumbs!"

"Hey! Stop that, Madam Fortress Mommy!" Bawled Harold, still curled up—and doing just what Helga said—alongside their classmates' feet.

Helga cast a furious look at him as she dodged the men's attacks. "Well, no offense meant to _you_, Harold!"

When Vic thrust his arm back to punch her, she ducked in time, and his blow was so strong that he pummeled his own cheek.

"Why don'tcha quit your childish game now before you get yourself more hurt than you already have, ya dopey mama's boy?"

"HEY!"

Losing her temper completely, Helga shirked Vic's offense, paid no heed to Morrie taking a revolver, and sauntered right before the deathly frightened Harold. The other fourth graders separated sides to give way to her and stared at her, even more terrified than they were of the kidnappers.

Helga slapped Harold on the face. Harold's thumb popped out of his mouth and he gawked at the girl who was towering over him.

"I wasn't talking to _you_, Harold Berman!" Shrieked Helga, pointing to the enemy. "I was insulting _them_!"

"Which y' can't do anymore, little lady!"

Helga and the others whirled and found Morrie pointing a gun at all of them. They gasped, and Harold began sucking his thumb again and rolled back and forth across the floor.

Vic took out his own revolver. "Yeah, we got ya right where we want ya!"

"All of ya! One false move and we'll shoot!"

Helga staggered rearward as she stretched her arms back and enclosed the others.

As he embraced Sid in fright, Stinky frowned. "How do ya make a 'false move'?"

"Silence!" Cried Morrie. "The whole lot of ya aren't going anywhere till we tell ya! Are we on the same page here?"

As he spoke, Arnold, who was holding fire until the perfect moment, tiptoed closer to the back of the two men.

His ten classmates all saw him moving in for the kill. Most of them were about to gasp, scream, cheer, and expose other revealing reactions to the hoodlums when Helga made herself lose her footing and tripped over her classmates behind her, knocking all of them down and—ultimately—cutting their reactions short.

"Whoops. Clumsy me." She said insincerely, firing a fierce look at Arnold.

Arnold nodded at her and rammed himself into Vic's torso with all his weight, using his head and elbow as battering ram. As the kids hooted and cheered for him, Vic collapsed upon Morrie, who before he got entirely squashed pulled the trigger of his rifle.

The gunshot sent nine kids screaming in a mad run for cover.

"Get off me, you good-for-nothing beast!" Yelled Morrie.

When Vic got up, the determined Morrie aimed his revolver precisely on Helga's heart.

**End of 8: Helga's Maneuver**

I love Arnold. I love Helga. I love Arnold and Helga. I love their tacit teamwork. I love the way they pick on—and unconsciously _pick_—each other! There's chemistry between them. You'll see more in chapter nine (my _favorite_ chapter).

**Since you got this far, why don't you Submit a Review? The next chapter won't fly away or something! Here's what to expect…  
**The Rescue Team from Sunset Arms lurks in the limelight in chapter _9: Of Loincloths and Wrecking Balls_. (You could already guess who will show up, I believe.)


	9. Of Loincloths and Wrecking Balls

**Disclaimer  
**(Just so I won't get sued…)  
All related characters and settings found below are strictly based on the TV series _Hey Arnold! _created by Craig Bartlett as seen on _Nickelodeon_. In addition, no copyright infringement of _Tarzan _and _George of the Jungle_, both as seen on _The Disney Channel_,is intended by the references below.

**9: Of Loincloths and Wrecking Balls**

Arnold raced for Helga and fetched her by the hand away from the range of fire just as Morrie aimed for her and shot.

Arnold and Helga bent and kneeled behind the toppled table, unintentionally facing each other. Helga glanced around and, spotting no foes, said in a hushed tone, "Have you lost it, Arnold? You could've gotten yourself killed!"

"You could've too, Helga!"

"I don't mean _that_, Football Head! _That_! Getting abducted! Taking my place! You could've said you're not a Pataki right from the start!"

Flustered, Arnold looked down to evade Helga's eyes. He saw both his and her hands, pressed to the ground close by each other—in fact, almost touching.

Leveling his sublime grass green eyes with her flaming azure ones, Arnold touched Helga's fingers with his own for a fleeting moment.

"I didn't want you hurt, Helga. Sorry."

Upon sensing contact, Helga glimpsed at her hand and grunted. Yet deep inside of her, she bathed in the tranquil pools of his eyes and took pleasure in his undivided attention.

_Oh, Arnold! No petty act of kindness can ever come to par with the Good Samaritan sacrifice you have done for me this day! You more than deserve my appreciation, my love. Dearest Arnold! I shall compensate for this day, no matter what it takes, for all my life!_

Arnold blinked and stared at his spaced out classmate. "Helga?"

Upon hearing Arnold's voice, Helga snapped back to reality. "Oh yeah? Well, you don't know how much _you_ 'hurt' me when y' thought I wouldn't be able to save myself in case I got kidnapped! That's pretty much what you thought when you decided to be 'Big Bob's son'!"

"No, I didn't think of that at all! I didn't want you kidnapped! I didn't want _them_ to hurt you!"

Helga delighted in Arnold's affectionate words, yet she masked her bliss in its brusque counterpart: disappointment.

"But I'm here in trigger-happy city now, aren't I? Face it, Arnuldo. Your plan to replace me bites."

A big UGH was written all over Arnold's face. "Well, it would've worked _if you hadn't come here yourself_!"

Suddenly the kidnappers carried the table off and left the two hostages out in the clear. "Think you pesky kids can hide from us?"

Morrie and Vic laughed and aimed their shooters at Helga and Arnold. "Join the rest of your little friends! And their stupid spider!"

"Which didn't scare us!"

Arnold sighed and put his hands in the air as Vic buried the barrel of the pistol against his back and led him to where his other classmates were caged.

Helga, ignoring the weapon pointed at her own back, whirled to reason with Morrie. "C'mon, give us kids a break! You didn't even kidnap us!"

"Yeah, but we got you now, don't we?"

The kids in the detention cell joined Helga's protest:

"Free the animals! Free us animals!"

"But we came here on our own!"

"Free the animals! Free us animals!"

"Yeah! You didn't catch us!"

"Free the a—"

"Knock it off, Curly!"

"That's not my problem now, is it?" Morrie eyed the real Pataki. "Look, little lady! We failed our kidnap-for-ransom mission on the fourth graders of P.S. 118 real badly! We couldn't find that Lorenzo kid or that Wellington-Boyd one—"

"Lloyd." Chuckled Helga. "How can you track someone down if y' didn't even get 'er name right? By the way, did you even try looking for Lorenzo in his enormous mansion in the heart of his own gargantuan Spanish estate in the only first-class subdivision in town? Just checking."

Morrie shook his head. "Whatever! And you, Pataki, were the last on our list. You were stupid enough to come to us, and now we're not letting you go!"

"All right! Keep her! But what about _us_?" From inside the detention cell, Sid motioned to all his companions. "We just got dragged in here!"

The other fourth graders muttered their agreement.

Helga thrust them a menacing dagger look. "Hey! Hey hey hey hey hey! What're you talkin' about? You were all in this jig! You morons wanted to 'see Ar-nulld again', even it if meant getting stuck in this rotten chicken coop of a kidnapping syndicate headquarters!"

Arnold smiled to himself. _I don't have to worry about the guys never wanting to see me again, even if they say they do. And Helga's the same way._

"Don't blame us! They used to store frozen poultry in here!"

"You idiot! Y' didn't have to tell 'em that!" Yelled Morrie. He turned to Sid as he stuck his gun against Helga.

"That just proves you kids were stupider to have come with her! And to rescue the stupidest kid of all!" He looked at the Pataki pretender.

Arnold refused to enter the cell, so Vic hoisted him up by his shirttails and was about to chuck him in with the others when everyone heard a shriek.

"UNHAND THAT BLONDIE, YOU TEN-TON, THICK-SKULLED THUG!"

"Huh?" When Vic whirled his head, an old lady in a loincloth swung on a long rope towards him and kissed his mouth with her bare feet, clouting him out cold.

"That's for holding Kimba the wrong way! You should hold him by the back only when you want him to burp!"

"Grandma!" Exclaimed Arnold in surprise as he got up and dusted himself.

His classmates cheered and whooped "WE'RE SAVED!" as Gertie let go of the rope and landed on her own two feet next to the cell door. "That's Grandma _Jane_ to you, Kimba!"

"Grandma!" Arnold threw his arms around her. "I mean Grandma Jane! Where's Grandpa… George?"

"Nope, I'm Tarzan! And look at me swing!" Hollered Phil as he hung from another rope and booted Morrie. Helga stepped aside as Morrie fell face-first onto the floor, knocked out as well.

"No kidding! Look at me _swing_! Get it?" Arnold's grandpa elbowed the air as he clutched his rope tight. "And I can't figure out how to get off this thing either."

Arnold's classmates clustered around him and his grandmother in relief.

"Saved by your grandparents, again! You're one lucky kid, Arnold." Said Gerald.

"Yeah. I know."

The two of them exchanged smiles and performed their special thumb-shake.

"By the way, man," Gerald clapped his best friend's back and toned down his voice. "Y' know what 'pusillanimous' means?"

Arnold's eyelids fell halfway down his eyes knowingly. "Helga said that, didn't she?"

"Uh-huh. Who else could've?"

Arnold cupped his hand into Gerald's ear. "I read it someplace, but I can't tell where. Don't worry, we'll look it up later."

"Sure thing, buddy. Later."

Arnold shrugged and glanced around. He found his grandfather swinging right towards a… "Grandpa! Watch out!"

Everyone winced and whirled to find Arnold's grandpa pasted to the wall.

"A tree would've been less painful," groaned Grandpa.

"The stupidest kid of all was right! You're not Tarzan, you're George!"

Morrie's knees wobbled as he stood and pointed his pistol at Arnold, his grandma, and his classmates. Most of them gasped upon seeing him conscious.

Grandpa Phil peeled himself off the wall and wagged a threatening finger at the man. "Oh, I'm Tarzan all right," he waited for the giddy Morrie to point the gun at him instead of the kids. "'Cause when I'm angry, I have the strength of one wrecking ball!"

He punched the wall.

Nothing happened.

Everyone blinked.

"_I SAID, I have the strength of one wrecking ball!_"

And Grandpa punched the wall again.

To everyone's astonishment (except Phil and Gertie's, but especially Morrie's), the wall came crumbling down.

As his classmates mumbled among themselves, Arnold dove past the collapsed wall to the real wrecking ball behind it. He found Ernie Potts' crane, with Ernie himself at the wheel and Mr. Hyunh sitting beside him.

In his elation, Arnold cupped his hands around his mouth and called out to them. "ERNIE! MR. HYUNH! HERE!"

The two Sunset Arms boarders spotted him and waved. "Hey kid!" Ernie pulled the lever. "Glad to see you're okay!"

"Yeah!"

"Hey—Arnold!" The Vietnamese boarder stood up and waved both his hands. "Grandpa said—you were kidnapped! But now—you all right!"

"Never better, Mr. Hyunh!"

"See? Told you I got the strength of one wrecking ball!" Grandpa flexed the slight muscle in his arm. "Never get me angry by calling my grandson 'the stupidest kid of all' twice in a row. I can tolerate it only once."

Arnold rolled his eyes and sighed.

"He-he!" Phil laughed, casually wrung his grandson's neck around his arm and scuffed the boy's hair. "Take it as a compliment, Short Man! Sure, you were stupid for letting yourself get kidnapped, but you were brave too—in a stupid way!"

Arnold sighed again as he released himself from his grandfather's clutches. He rubbed his neck gingerly. "Cut it out, Grandpa! That hurts a little."

The gangling Morrie directed his gun from Arnold to his grandparents to his classmates. "Just 'cause you've torn down the headquarters doesn't mean it's over!"

Helga walked up to him, spanked the gun out of his hands, and leered at him. "Oh, it's over all right."

She pointed beyond the toppled wall.

All of them had a look see outside. "YAY!" The fourth graders leapt for joy as a rescue helicopter gradually descended upon them.

"Hey Arnold! Chocolate!" From behind the round glass window of the copter, Chocolate Boy grinned impishly and waved a bag bursting at the seams. Arnold gave him a thumbs-up.

The copter rotors sliced the air as Officer Pudney spoke through a loudspeaker. "Come up with your hands up!"

**End of 9: Of Loincloths and Wrecking Balls**

**Since you got this far, why don't you Submit a Review? The next chapter won't fly away or something! Here's what to expect…  
**It's payback time for Helga in chapter _10: Helga's Sacrifice_.


	10. Helga's Sacrifice

**Disclaimer  
**(Just so I won't get sued…)  
All related characters and settings found below are strictly based on the TV series _Hey Arnold! _created by Craig Bartlett as seen on _Nickelodeon_.

**10: Helga's Sacrifice**

"You have the right to remain silent." Said Officer Pudney as two other officers cuffed the now conscious Vic and the disgruntled Morrie.

Several meters from the demolished warehouse wall was the stage crew for the local nightly news at 7, filming the capture of the city kidnappers and the release of the other hostages live on television.

"THIS JUST IN!" The reporter on duty said on the microphone, pressing her earpiece to gauge her own tone of voice. "THE KIDNAPPING SCARE IS NOW PUT TO AN END!"

She strode over to the detainees being led inside the copter door while the cameras followed her face. "A certain Vic and Morrie, the only members of the notorious kidnapping syndicate who had been behind the dozen most recent kidnappings in our town for this month, have now been caught! They are now in custody of our local police department and will be handed over to the city jail with charges of child abduction…"

The bulky Vic resisted going inside the copter; thus, two burly cops shoved him in. Soon Morrie was also thrown in.

"Huh?" Both thugs were caught stunned upon finding their pal Oskar Kokoshka sitting beside them in the helicopter. "Kokoshka?"

"Ehehe!" The foreign US resident laughed nervously. "What brings you two here?"

Morrie thrust his tied self towards Oskar. "Whaddya THINK we're doin' here?"

Vic wore a sinister look on his face. "By any chance, ya didn't… rat us out, did ya?"

Oskar waved his hands dismissively. "No, of course not! I didn't rat you out! I just told them where you keep the kids!"

His eyes widened in shock, and he slapped his own mouth.

"Why ya li'l—"

Seething in their fury, the kidnappers were about to hack the ropes that tied them when Oskar tried to stop them.

"But I didn't tell them your names! I only told them the place, so I thought you could still hide when you hear the helicopter coming! Ehehe!"

Morrie and Vic calmed.

"Bah, what can we do now? It's that stupid football-headed kid who got us in this jam!"

Oskar peered out the copter. "Oh, you mean Arnold?"

"That's 'im! He faked us!"

"Yeah! He pretended to be a Pataki, so we got 'im and not his classmate!"

Oskar laughed out loud. "But of course he's not a Pataki! He's the kid from the boardinghouse I live in! He comes in with the drinks when we're playing poker! He's such a nice kid, protecting his classmate!"

Suddenly two pairs of eyes widened.

The two groaned.

"Yeah! He's the one! I knew I saw 'im someplace!"

"Yeah, and his grandparents looked familiar, too!"

"See? He's Arnold! You made a big mistake when you got him!"

The broadcaster motioned to the children huddled in one corner—to one of them in particular. "Here we are with a number of the actual hostages of this kidnap-for-ransom gang. You are…?"

"Me?" Arnold darted uncomfortable glances from his classmates to the camera zooming in on him. "I… I'm Arnold."

"Yes. Arnold… uh…?"

Arnold was about to open his mouth to supply his last name when his grandparents led a cheer joined in by the fourth graders.

"YEAH! ARNOLD, ARNOLD, HE'S OUR MAN! IF HE CAN'T DO IT, NO ONE CAN! HE'S THE BEST! BEAT THE REST! ARNOLD, ARNOLD, SIS-BOOM-BA! GOOOOO, ARNOLD!"

He laughed quietly while shooting "You can stop now" glances at his pep squad.

"Ah, yes. Rex Smythe-Higgins the Third, grandson of the illustrious Rex Smithe-Higgins and another hostage of this kidnapping syndicate, reportedly claims you as the person responsible for his freedom along with the rescue of two other captives. Do fill us in on this."

_So he went not to the police but to the media. That's great! _Arnold smiled and shook his head. "It wasn't me. My friends from school—" he gestured towards the other fourth graders, "—came to save me. In the height of things we all got caught, and my grandparents and my other friends—" he motioned to Philip, Gertrude, Ernie, and Mr. Hyunh, "—came to save all of us, followed by the police."

He looked at Officer Pudney, who aimed her loudspeaker high at Ernie Potts and Mr. Hyunh, who were still in the crane.

"You two are under arrest for the demolition of the old city warehouse without the possession of a permit!"

Everyone gasped.

Ernie jumped off his seat. "But Officer, we saved the kids! And this is _my_ crane!"

"Yes!" Protested Mr. Hyunh. "We had right to do that!"

"That doesn't give you the right, or the excuse, to demolish a building without a permit!"

Mr. Potts shook his head in disbelief. "We had a good reason! Besides, this was all the old coot's idea!" He pointed to Grandpa Phil. "You and your lousy 'I'm as strong as Tarzan' plans!"

Phil stepped forward. "But I didn't tell you to wreck the wall to smithereens! I specifically said 'just a small crack' so it'll be believable!"

Arnold jumped in between his grandfather and his friend's crane. "Grandpa! Ernie! STOP!"

Meanwhile, inside the copter, Morrie hung his head low while the pilot took his seat. "We'll never get to bet on Cat Chow again!"

A blond girl with a pink bow grabbed the door handle of the copter.

"All to bet on a flea-bitten beast? Crime just doesn't pay! And _no one_ 'little lady's Helga G. Pataki!"

And she slammed the helicopter door on the two thugs' faces.

Just then she heard another door slam and heavy footsteps drawing closer.

"Where have you been, little lady?"

Helga's eyes grew round as saucers. She slapped her forehead. "Perfect."

"You got me and your mom all worried sick of you, Olga!" Big Bob Pataki trudged towards his daughter, carrying an iron fist. "Wha' happened?"

Helga threw her arms at her sides and rolled her eyes. "_Helga_, Dad! And for your information, I got kidnapped!" She said matter-of-factly. "It's not like I ran away from home or somethin'!"

"NO! DON'T ARREST THEM!"

_Arnold! _Helga turned to the direction of the yell.

"Please! They did it to rescue us!"

Helga gasped upon seeing Arnold plead to Officer Pudney with clasped hands. Behind them she spotted his grandparents and two of the boarders from his house. The cops were slipping handcuffs on them.

Gertie lifted her cuffed wrists to level with her eyes. "Why, I've never seen round an' shiny doohickeys like these here in the jungle!"

After tearing his gaze from his mentally disoriented grandmother, Arnold reverted his attention to the lady cop. "Please, Officer! Don't press charges!"

Helga cupped her chin in thought. _If Arnold's grandma and grandpa and the boarders will be jailed for _destroying _the warehouse…_

She pounded her fist on her palm and released her novel idea. "Dad, can you have the warehouse fixed?"

Mr. Pataki's one eyebrow creased. "What're you talkin' about, girl? This better be good!"

"I meant what I said, Bob! Can you have the warehouse fixed? You can call up that Nick Vermicelli guy and the guys from Scheck Cement and the warehouse will be brand spankin' new in no time!"

Bob folded his arms across his chest and tapped his foot. "Now why would I wanna do that? It's a waste of money!"

Helga heaved a deep sigh before she began. "Look Dad, it'll be hard for you to understand now, but that kid over there," she pointed at the almost kneeling Arnold. "Arnold… he pretended to be your 'son'."

The girl waited for her father's reaction: blank and indifferent.

"Bob, the thugs were after ME! They wanted YOUR beeper empire!"

"And they got him?"

"Yeah!"

"So that's HIS problem."

"BOB!" Moaned Helga. "His grandparents and some others are gonna get locked up if you don't have the warehouse fixed! He's gonna lose the only people he calls family if that happens, and…" At this point, her voice subsided. "…I owe him one 'cause he stuck it out for me."

She sighed. "If you're not gonna do it for that boy you call an orphan, then do it for me. I wanna help him out, Dad. I really do."

After a long, uneasy pause, he sighed as well. He took out his mobile phone from his breast pocket and started punching numbers. "I dunno why I'm doing this."

Helga's eyes glistened. She threw her father a big bear hug. "Thanks Dad!"

She sprinted off to the others as her father got a hold on someone on the line.

"WAIT!"

The midget construction worker had one leg inside the police car when everyone laid eyes on Helga.

Helga pushed Arnold aside and seized Pudney by her collar, badge and all. "Listen here, lady! You don't need to arrest these innocent citizens if I get your stupid warehouse fixed!"

Arnold rose and dusted himself as he stared at his classmate with widened eyes.

"There'll be no one t' blame if nuttin' bad happened! Y' got me?"

The law enforcer looked down at the little girl. "You're saying you'll account for their damages?"

Both of them shot a look at the ragtag group of grown-ups.

Helga narrowed her eyes. "You got that right, bucko. By tomorrow that old dump will be good as untouched."

The policewoman shot Helga a menacing look and brushed the girl away from her. "You better keep your end of the deal or they go to jail. If you didn't know, you're dealing with the law."

Helga fell and landed on her behind. She shook her left fist, Old Betsy, as Arnold helped her up by the right arm. "Well, if you didn't know, you're practicing sheer cruelty! Long arm of the law? Criminey!"

Pudney and the rest of the police troop got in their cars as Arnold held Helga's arms to calm her down.

Helga's fierce sapphire eyes met Arnold's tame emerald ones.

"What now, Football Head?"

Arnold smiled. He drew a heavy sigh and locked Helga in a snug embrace.

**End of 10: Helga's Sacrifice**

**Since you got this far, why don't you Submit a Review? The next chapter won't fly away or something! Here's what to expect…  
**All's well that ends well (with one exception) in chapter _11: Home Free_.


	11. Home Free

**Disclaimer  
**(Just so I won't get sued…)  
All related characters and settings found below are strictly based on the TV series _Hey Arnold! _created by Craig Bartlett as seen on _Nickelodeon_.

**11: Home Free**

The flame in Helga's eyes died when she admired her long-time love from very up close. For a fleeting moment she waded in the golden sea of his hair and took a whiff of the wild waters. _Gosh, he smells good! Even if he's been on his toes the whole day!_

She lowered her gaze to indulge in his countenance. His eyes were closed, and he still had that silly grin on his lips. Her eyes roamed around and found Harold batting his eyelashes at her tauntingly.

Caught in disgrace, Helga tripped Arnold to the ground and yelled at the top of her lungs in the midst of group squeals, "Don't you ever do that again! EVER!"

"Arnold and Helga, sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S—"

More enraged than ever, Helga gritted her teeth, stomped towards Harold, Stinky, Sid, and Curly and—with Arnold and the others watching and all—socked all four guys senseless.

Arnold got up and was about to hold on to his furiously deranged classmate when he overheard Phoebe, Eugene, Sheena, Nadine, and—to some extent—Gerald, giggling. He stopped in his tracks and sighed.

_Now I know whose fault it is that Helga's too sensitive with displaying affection, _he said to himself. _It's our whole class', and somehow, mine._

He rolled up his fist.

"Guys, it's not very nice to poke fun at serious stuff."

All the fourth graders stopped and feasted their eyes on Arnold. Even Helga.

"I know you can't help but laugh and tease when something like that happens 'cause it feels awkward for everyone. But the truth is, laughing and teasing don't help anyone, especially the people you tease and laugh at. Sometimes you ought t' just leave them alone. It's better that way."

He trained his eyes on the girl with the pink bow. "Helga did something I'm so thankful for that I just felt like doing that. Anything wrong with it?"

The fourth graders save Helga shook their heads slowly.

"Then why make us feel bad, as if it's so wrong? That's why Helga wants to just… vent her anger out on you." Arnold referred to the four boys knocked to the ground. "This has been happening our whole lives, and it's not working out anymore. You have to apologize to Helga for hurting her feelings… even if she hurt you back physically. You still started it."

The four boys rubbed their arms gingerly and hung their heads low. "Sorry, Helga."

"Hmph!" Helga chafed her hands together and snubbed them.

"Sorry, Arnold." Added Stinky. "I swear I'll never act funny when you and Helga do somethin' mighty lovey-dovey again."

Everyone's eyes widened. However, Helga's and Arnold's narrowed forebodingly.

Stinky sighed. "Aw, shucks. I reckon I said somethin' wrong again."

Some of the fourth graders were about to speak up when a glossy black stretch limousine drove up right next to them. The chauffeur exited and opened the door for the passengers at the rearmost row of the limo. To the kids' astonishment, who else stepped out the posh automobile—holding the chauffeur's hand and all—and graced the ground than…

"_Lila_." Spat Helga with disgust.

Succeeding her was the boy who handed a hundred-dollar tip to the driver: Lorenzo.

The fourth graders exchanged whispers as their two classmates waved to them.

"Hey Lorenzo. Hey Lila." Greeted Arnold.

"Hey Arnold," said the two in unison. They traded glances and chuckled.

"You two are getting along well," said Arnold.

"_Too_ well, if you ask me."

"Sid, remember that talk we all just had?" Arnold planted his fists on his hips.

Lila gave all of her classmates the once-over, then clasped her hands beside her heart and sighed. "I'm ever so thankful all of you are all right."

"Oh brother, there goes Little Miss Perfect again," Helga began walking away. "I'm ever so outta here!"

Stinky blushed. "I'll always be all right when _you're_ around, Miss Lila."

Lila smiled at him sweetly. "Gosh! Thanks ever so much, Stinky! I saw the whole thing in the news. All of you were…"

"…Kidnapped!" Lorenzo finished for her. "She was standing in front of Phil's TV when I passed by her in my limo."

"Yes, I was watching television there. Then Lorenzo, quite by chance, found me and offered me a ride here. He too wanted to see all of you."

"So, does that mean you two _weren't_ keeping each other company the whole day?" Asked Sid.

"Why, no Sid." Said Lorenzo. "We were together for only the last ten or fifteen minutes. I didn't check with my watch, my beeper, my cell phone, my laptop, or my organizer. I could if you want me to…"

"Whatever gave you that idea?" Lila batted her eyelashes.

"Oh, nothing."

Arnold sighed. _Never trust anything Sid "hears"._

"I don't think any of you really want to know this," Lila shuffled her feet daintily. "But I was absent from class today because my father had the flu this morning and I had to take care of him."

The fourth graders murmured their words of admiration for Lila's selfless reason.

"I… I was absent because…" began Lorenzo.

"We all know," Gerald clapped a hand on the rich kid's shoulder. "Your mother told Simmons and he told us."

"Yeah!" said Harold. "I thought you were kidnapped!"

The others concurred.

A sudden "Aha!" erupted from afar. The fourth graders gasped upon spotting Principal Wartz trudging towards them.

"So this is where the fourth grade students of P.S. 118 would like to hold class now, is it?"

Arnold began. "Principal Wartz, I can explain—"

"There is no need for any explanation, young man." Wartz cut in. "I know everything. You were kidnapped, and your classmates left the school and went after you. That makes every single one of you absent this afternoon!" The fourth graders reeled back in bewilderment. "I want all of you to report for remedial class tomorrow! Notify your parents that you will be dismissed tomorrow at five to make up for the time you lost today!"

The students groaned. Behind the principal, their teacher Simmons greeted them with outstretched arms. "Oh, Arnold! Class! Thank goodness no one was hurt!"

He spread out his arms wider, expecting hugs from his traumatized-by-the-kidnapping-experience students. An uncomfortable silence filled the air. The kids merely blinked at him; some even planted their hands on their hips.

Arnold was the first to speak. "Sorry to make you worry, Mr. Simmons."

As the other fourth graders narrated their day's events to their concerned teacher, their parents and siblings arrived at the scene. Soon the demolished warehouse served as venue for the family gathering of the P.S. 118 fourth graders.

Signs of affection went unbridled and wild. Fathers clapped their son's backs. Mothers—especially Harold's—hugged their babies tight. Brothers and sisters, elder and younger, wrung necks and stuck tongues out. Arnold watched the doting sights intently with a wistful gleam in his eye.

Every once in a while he cast glimpses at the members of his own non-traditional family—in, near, and dangling by the crane. Grandma was hanging on to the chain of the wrecking ball, perhaps still playing Jane, while Grandpa bellowed for her to get down. Mr. Hyunh was pulling levers here and there, and the annoyed Ernie was undoing his every move. Through some true benison, none of them were in jail. Thanks to…

Arnold whirled in all directions. He found her standing next to her father, who was on his cellular phone. The man seemed to pay no heed to his daughter.

_I guess I could…_

He had taken one step towards her when he felt an elfin hand on his shoulder.

"Arnold, is there something wrong? You look ever so bothered."

He carefully peeled Lila's hand off him and gave her a thin smile. "I'm fine, Lila. I just have some… unfinished business."

Wide-eyed (she was not used to Arnold acting in such a manner), she stared at her hand. She wore a cute pouting face. "Oh, now I know what's bothering you. You don't have your hat."

"Yeah. I'll look for it after I take care of something. Thanks, Lila."

Lila blinked at Arnold walking away. "Arnold…?"

_Where is she now? _Arnold whirled his head in all directions. He could not find her anywhere near Mr. Pataki or elsewhere. He glanced at the Pataki car. What was that pink thing next to the rear left tire…?

Arnold took a peek behind the Lincoln and found Helga kneeling on the muddied ground, clutching something to her chest. "Helga?"

"ARNOLD?" Helga gasped. She stuffed that certain something into her dress, stood up, and snapped, "Don't sneak up on me like that, you… you sneak!"

_You're not the only one who called me that today. _Arnold sighed. "I guess I wanted to thank you for everything you did today. You answered their phone call, didn't you?"

"So what if I did?" She folded her arms across her chest.

"You even came after me. Thanks, Helga. Thanks a lot." He beamed.

Helga's knees were giving way at the sight of her love's curled lips. "Ah, I figured I had t' come after ya 'cause they got you instead of me. You, mistaken for me, Helga G. Pataki! Ha! What a joke! What a blooper! What a lame setup! What a—"

"It took a lot of guts."

"Yeah, well… your crazy masquerade took just as much guts, Football Head. Hey, we're both alive and kickin' to tell about it, aren't we? Unlike those weaklings who stayed at home, like _Li-la._ Hmph! She was prob'ly all worried sick for ya, huh?"

Arnold shrugged. "She just told me I don't have my hat."

_Your hat!_ Helga's eyes widened. She recovered Arnold's cap from within her dress and tossed it to him. "Don't get any ideas, Arnuldo. I just kept it warm and cozy for ya 'cause we all know ya need it for your _bald spot_!"

Arnold caught his cherished cap, dusted it, and fitted it in its rightful place amidst his spiked hair. "Thanks again, Helga!" He gazed atop his head with a toothy grin. "You really look out for me."

"Yuck! I do _not_ look out for football heads!" Helga made a face and jostled Arnold to the side. "Now step aside, Arnuldo, you're crowding me!"

She plodded away, sighing in clandestine delight. "Ohh…"

_I guess she had a really tiring day._ Arnold followed his pink-bowed classmate with his eyes. From the distance he saw Principal Wartz dragging Curly by the collar and heard the boy's, "Don't send me to detention! I didn't break your precious door, _they_ did!"

Engrossed in her euphoria, Helga collapsed onto the back of a trashcan. She retrieved her Arnold locket and held it in her arms.

From within the trash bin resounded wheezy breathing. The lid slowly rose, revealing Brainy beneath it. And by force of bad habit, Helga's Old Betsy socked the poor heavy-breathing stalker.

Arnold gawked at thin air, absorbed in fantasy. His own parents rushing to his safety, his grandparents actually saving the day, his classmates rescuing him, he and his fellow hostages freeing themselves, his kidnappers, Helga…

"Hey Arnold! Wake up!"

"Huh?" Stammered Arnold. He blinked and found Gerald's hand over his face.

"Time to go home, man. What a day!"

Arnold and Gerald clapped each other on the back and headed towards their families together.

"Sure is, Gerald. But I can't help feeling we forgot something…"

* * *

Rhonda was still bound to a chair toppled to the ground in the custodian's closet of P.S. 118. She heard a shrill squeak from the hall. Beads of sweat broke from her forehead.

"Arnold, is that you? Did Curly get you too?"

Several successive squeaks drew louder… closer.

"Arnold, get me out of this place!" Rhonda budged her tied legs, to no avail.

The squeak now sounded as if coming from alongside her. Her ankle was getting awfully itchy…

"Arnold? Let me out of here this instant! Arnold! HEY ARNOLD!"

**End**

Oh goodie! We all got this far. XD  
Really, I gave my best shot to capture the distinct personalities of all the _HA! _characters through their behavior and oddball expressions (i.e., Stinky's "Willikers!"). Whether or not you stand satisfied, I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it… I think. Yeah, I did.

**Did you skip reviewing a previous chapter? If so, you're about to Submit a Review for the WRONG one! Don't worry, this is the last one, and it will stay right here… Just come back for this, all rightie? Thankies.**

Apologia  
This is by way of an apology to another author for my posting this fanfic. In spite of the resemblance of our fics (I was told that your _HA!_ fic, which already existed before I put mine up, bears the same title as mine excluding the "!" and also presents Rhonda as a victim of abduction), I sincerely insist that I created this fic to entertain myself—yes, just myself—and not to replicate or distort yours. Once more, my regrets.


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